


Away To Me

by Kablob, mylordshesacactus



Series: Happy Huntress Cinematic Universe [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Academy-era, Backstory, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Fantastic Racism, Faunus!Robyn, Gaslighting, Hurt/Comfort, Objectification, Pre-Relationship, Team Dynamics, pre-transition transgender character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23145154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kablob/pseuds/Kablob, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylordshesacactus/pseuds/mylordshesacactus
Summary: Then there came a great fullness to his heart so that all things blurred to his sight through salt tears, and he bowed his head lest the folk should think him unmanly when they saw the tears in his eyes. But when he looked up again he felt his heart leap within him and then stand still for pure joy, for he saw the face of one of his own dear companions of merry Sherwood; then glancing quickly around he saw well-known faces upon all sides of him.Then of a sudden the blood sprang to his cheeks, for he saw for a moment his own good master in the press and, seeing him, knew that Robin Hood and all his band were there. Yet betwixt him and them was a line of men-at-arms.Or: Fiona finds her team leader.
Relationships: Robyn Hill/Fiona Thyme
Series: Happy Huntress Cinematic Universe [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646263
Comments: 80
Kudos: 134





	Away To Me

It took nearly fifteen minutes, several upperclassmen directing the freshmen like air-traffic controllers, and professors reminding them with increasingly dead voices to move toward the center and fill all the available space—but finally, the incoming class of Atlas Academy was arranged near the stage in the main auditorium with the rest of the students arrayed at the back.

Robyn, who hadn’t been able to sidle up to a wall this time, focused on keeping her tail stub from twitching and tried to pay attention to Ironwood.

“Shame we don’t have the technology to just broadcast this to the rest of the school,” Joanna’s low voice said in her ear. “If only there were some way to avoid cramming the entire student body into one room.”

Robyn’s lips twitched against her will, taking some of her tension away with the movement. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she replied, keeping her voice quiet but light. “Actually _use_ the school-wide broadcast system and projection screens every twenty feet in Atlas Academy, the largest Huntsman academy and most technologically-advanced location in the world? That would make _sense.”_

“Right.” Joanna grinned, looking down at her. “Can’t have that.”

“They could have at least staggered arrival times,” Fiona agreed. 

“How do you mean?” Robyn asked, distracted as the professors finally seemed satisfied with the arrangement of their students and the lights began shifting. 

Fiona shrugged. “I just feel like either we should have been waiting already and they could bring the others in, or…”

“Nah.” Fiona’s shoulders hunched slightly, but relaxed almost instantly at Joanna’s good-natured smirk. The lights in the main auditorium had gone dark, leaving only the stage lights; as the conversation around them faded, Joanna lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “It’s our day, isn’t it? Those assholes can wait for _us.”_

Fiona grinned. Robyn smiled and opened her mouth, but before she could reply there was an ear-splitting shriek of feedback from the speakers. Fiona clamped her hands over her ears, and even Robyn couldn’t help cringing slightly.

Up on stage, Ironwood tapped the microphone twice and then coughed. “My apologies. Ah. Welcome! And let me once again congratulate each and every one of you. My greatest privilege as headmaster of this academy is the opportunity to watch as each year, our students come to us stronger, smarter, and more skilled than ever. This year’s cohort is no exception! You’ve all demonstrated the potential to become exactly the kind of young Huntsmen and Huntresses that Atlas Academy is proud of.”

There was a pause for polite applause from the upperclassmen. Fiona joined in with the rest of the incoming cohort, pausing abruptly when she realized Robyn and Joanna had only been rolling their eyes at one another. Robyn, meeting Fiona’s self-conscious look, smiled and clapped a few times for her sake.

While Ironwood launched into a bit about honor and nobility or whatever, Robyn leaned down to murmur in Fiona’s ear, “Ignore me. I’m a hopeless cynic, ask anyone.”

Fiona laughed, blushing slightly all the same. “I know it’s dumb,” she whispered back. “It’s just…”

“You know you’re allowed to have fun, right?”

That got another little laugh, but she did at least look more relaxed as Robyn straightened back up, just in time to catch the tail end of whatever Ironwood was on about.

“...that just as this Academy, as this Kingdom, depends on every one of you to serve to the best of your considerable abilities, you will learn to depend on one another. So, without further ado…”

“Can I have that in writing?” Joanna muttered.

“...I know what you’ve all really been waiting for. Your team assignments.”

A ripple ran through the incoming cohort that not even Robyn was immune to.

A long pause, as Ironwood fiddled with the controls on his podium. Finally, the screen behind him lit up with four blank squares, and four blank lines above them where letters would shortly be.

“The names I call will be in no particular order,” Ironwood informed them. “When you’ve joined me onstage, I will announce your team leader and the name by which we will know you during your time at this academy.”

He cleared his throat.

“Will Roseleaf and Myrtle Ancaster,” he called out. “Ariana Bland...”

Robyn leaned over toward Joanna. “I like the plausible deniability on partner pairs.”

Joanna snorted. “Someone has to have tried that.”

 _“But sir,”_ Robyn agreed. _“You never actually_ said _he was supposed to be my partner…”_

The first team complete, Ironwood cleared the board and began again.

“So Robyn,” Joanna whispered. “What do you think happens if he wants to make a team but he can’t find a color name to match it?”

“Probably bend the color name rule,” Robyn whispered back with a mirthless smile. “I can’t see Atlas prioritizing _sentiment_ over optimization.”

“...Will be team MNTC,” Ironwood announced, pronouncing it _Mantis._

Joanna hummed her agreement. “What if he can’t make a word at all?”

Robyn thought about it. “Obviously, all four students have to be exiled to die in the tundra.”

“Yeah,” Joanna snickered, “that scans.”

“Sterling Oak and Lance Hawthorne—” there was another ear-splitting burst of static from the microphone that covered up the next word “—Marigold and Neil Spruce.”

“Damn,” muttered Joanna.

Fiona looked aside at her. “You wanted to be on a team with a _Marigold?_ I know he seemed alright, but…”

“Most of them can’t even manage that,” Robyn pointed out.

“The four of you will work together as Team SLMN,”— _Salmon,_ this time—”led by Sterling Oak.”

After a polite round of applause, the four of them walked off the stage. Robyn managed to catch Marigold’s eye for a moment and waved encouragingly.

Ironwood cleared his throat and tapped the microphone again. “Apologies for the technical difficulties. Ironic here in Atlas, no?” He paused for a sensible chuckle from the audience that Robyn and Joanna did not join in. This time, even Fiona rolled her eyes. “Right. Anyway. Moving on. Ashe Angara and Pearl Lagoon, Chloe Brooke and Fiona Thyme.” 

Robyn actually jerked back. There was no reason to be surprised; gods only knew how the team-forming algorithm made its decisions, and she had no reason to assume she and Fiona would end up on the same team. Realistically, someone like Fiona could fit into a lot of team structures just fine.

Still, she felt an unexpected level of unhappy shock at that last name. Fiona looked just as surprised, her head whipping around to look at Robyn and Joanna—who were, really, the ones she’d spent the most time with since they’d met the previous evening.

After a moment, however, they both recovered. Robyn gave her a thumbs-up and got a nervous smile and wave in response, as Fiona hurried to join her new team on stage. Robyn paid a little more attention this time.

“The four of you will work together as Team APCT.” _Apricot._ “Led by Ashe Angara.”

Robyn couldn’t help being a little surprised; this time, it was a pleasant shock. Ashe Angara appeared to be the one with silvery-grey hair and the equally-silvery-grey feline tail. That was likely good news for Fiona; Robyn knew _she_ wouldn’t want to be on a team with three humans...but well, even if she were, the others would think it was an all-human team...

Angara thanked Ironwood with a carefully blank expression. She looked rather striking, Robyn thought, with that naked saber at her hip. The other two members of APCT were unremarkable; generically pretty human girls, well-dressed with high-end weapons. Fiona’s partner wore a bladed sniper rifle slung across her back, the other a more personalized design that seemed to be based on a harpoon gun.

Fiona, visibly nervous but unable to control her wide smile, bounced slightly in the wake of her new team as they left the stage. She shot a look and one more quick, hidden wave back in Robyn’s direction, but didn’t look back again as Ironwood launched into the next grouping.

Good, Robyn thought, controlling her sense of loss. It had...clearly been a while, since she’d had people around her. Anxiety curled in her stomach; she hadn’t consciously realized it, but after having Fiona split from the flock—as it were—she realized now how much she’d been counting on having _Joanna_ close at hand. Surely, even Ironwood would realize how well they played off one another...

Joanna nudged her. “She’s gonna be good,” she commented, nodding after Fiona.

“She _is_ good,” Robyn agreed. And not just as a polearm fighter, though her Aura was still complaining about the bruises it had been forced to heal after her bout with Fiona earlier that morning. “They’re lucky.”

The current team filed offstage, and the General cleared the screen again.

“Clover Ebi and Elm Ederne,” he read. “Robyn Hill and Joanna Greenleaf.”

Robyn couldn’t even begin to hide the relief that washed through her. She could have survived being split from Joanna, obviously, but that didn’t mean she _wanted_ to be on a team without her.

Thankfully the sentiment was shared; Joanna gave a massive huff of relief and clapped Robyn on the shoulder as she slipped past her; Robyn half a step behind, they vaulted the edge of the stage rather than fight through the crowd to get to the stairs.

The other members of her new team weren’t strangers. She’d met them both over the course of today’s sparring—human, tall, inoffensive, good-natured if a bit bland—and Clover had politely invited himself into a few rounds of poker during their downtime the previous night in which he’d _solidly_ kicked their asses. He seemed a bit like he’d been designed in a lab to be an Atlesian military poster boy, but like, with smoother edges than you’d expect. She could tolerate taking orders in the field from someone like that for a few years if she had to. _Following_ orders was a different question entirely, of course.

“The four of you will work together as Team Rouge,” Ironwood informed them. Robyn was so distracted trying to figure out how in the name of _any_ gods on Remnant he’d gotten that pronunciation from the acronym RGEE that she nearly missed the rest of his sentence. “Led by Robyn Hill.”

The mild-mannered applause barely registered through the sudden ringing in her ears. Elm was grinning and joining in the applause; Clover pounded her lightly on the back. Joanna, when Robyn turned to her in abject shock, was just smiling, arms crossed but unexpectedly sincere as she nodded her approval.

“C’mon, Robyn,” was all Joanna said. She jerked her head back toward the stairs. “We’ll have plenty of time to hog the stage later.”

* * *

Everyone probably felt a _little_ sick about team assignments on the first night.

It probably wasn’t _just_ Fiona, right?

Anyway, she thought, trying to loosen her white-knuckled grip on her staff. That wasn’t fair. She’d known since she started combat training that she was going to try to qualify for Atlas someday; and that meant, if she got in, she would have to deal with Atlesians. Annoying how that worked.

Really, she was probably only this nervous because team assignments were what she was almost most excited about at Atlas. The junior combat schools didn’t have teams; those were kind of the classic feature of the _real_ Huntsman academies. Fiona knew she was...a little nervous, a little socially awkward, and didn’t come across right away as typical Huntress material; she’d honestly been kind of shocked during orientation by the wild differences between all the qualifying students, and by how well she’d clicked with a lot of them. This really was a step above anything she’d done before, a higher level of training with a cohort of people who were just _better,_ and forming teams was the first big step. 

Still, she hadn’t planned on ending up on a team of total strangers—what was the point of all those teambuilding exercises if she didn’t even know anyone she ended up with?—and she had kind of hoped there’d be at least one other transplant, even if only from Mantle. She also hadn’t expected her Atlesian teammates to be...well, _this_ Atlesian.  
  
“Oh, wow.” Fiona wasn’t solid on any names yet, but she was pretty sure that one was Chloe. Which made her Fiona’s partner, apparently? “This is...I mean, hey, it’s kind of cute! Almost like camping!”

Fiona joined her new team in looking around their dorm room, which was roughly twice the size of Fiona’s bedroom in Mantle.

“Right?” That would be Ashe. “It’s a little cramped for four of us, considering how much funding the Academy gets, but still.”

Pearl shrugged one elegant shoulder. “I mean, it _is_ the military,” she reminded them. “We can rough it for a few years. Dibs on top bunk? Unless any of you girls wanted it, of course! I don’t mind.”

Ashe waved vaguely at her. “Oh don’t worry, I’ll stick with the bottom. Bunk beds are cute and all, but I think the novelty would wear off pretty quick.”

“Oh, same. You’re a hero, Pearl, I’d hate the top bunk!” Chloe exclaimed. Their luggage had, as promised, been delivered to their dorm rooms for them; she wasted no time grabbing the first designer suitcase and tossing it into the remaining bottom bunk. “That looks like a lot of hassle just to get in and out of bed.”

Fiona, who agreed entirely and was also several inches shorter, sighed and tossed her staff up into the last top bunk. This wasn’t worth fighting over.

“So,” Ashe said with a smile. “Does anyone actually _want_ to do the getting-to-know-you questionnaire? I mean, you two obviously already know each other!”

Pearl and Chloe laughed. “We do!” Pearl gestured between them. “We went to Novus Academy together, and, you know how things go. Best friends since freshman year! I was _so_ happy when she got in.”

“And now we’re on the same team! _Aah!”_ Fiona tried to hide her wince at Chloe’s shrill excitement. “This is so exciting! Where are you from—it’s Ashe, right? That is, like, the _prettiest_ name.”

Ashe brushed a chunk of ashen-grey hair away from her face. “Aww. Thank you! That’s so sweet.”

“It really is,” Pearl agreed. “And, oh, gosh, is it even okay to say this? I hope I’m allowed! But your _tail!_ I just _love_ it, it’s gorgeous! Can I?”

Fiona glanced between them, ready to step in—frankly, Ashe Angara was already starting to get on her nerves just by virtue of her personality, but Pearl had already put a hand on Ashe’s silky tail and stroked it. That was invasive at best and hair-raising at worst; Ashe’s smile had frozen, just for a moment, and neither of the humans seemed to have noticed.

“You should probably wait for an answer first,” she said, as politely as she could manage. After all, she’d been paired with these girls for a reason. There must be something they had in common that she wasn’t seeing yet. No point in starting a fight. But she wasn’t about to say nothing, either.

Ashe gave a light, airy laugh. “Oh, it’s fine! I’m not the type of person to overreact like that.”

Taking that as permission, Chloe joined them on Ashe’s bed and joined in. For some reason, Ashe shot Fiona a chilly glare behind her back.

“That is so _soft,”_ Chloe gushed. “So you’re like, some kind of snow leopard?”

“You, um,” Fiona tried. The sudden hostility had thrown her, but the way it had vanished like flipping a switch the moment Chloe looked up at her new team leader was beginning to make her genuinely worried. “You really shouldn’t ask it like…”

Ashe put a hand over Chloe’s free fingers. “Nothing that scary!” she promised. “Just a kitty cat. That does kind of tickle when you do that, though!”

Chloe giggled. “Oops.” Finally seeming to remember Fiona’s existence, she added, “Oh, your ears are really cute too.”

Fiona was much less skilled than Ashe Angara at faking a smile. “Uh, thanks, I think,” she said. She did notice that Ashe had taken advantage of the distraction to sweep her tail out of reach, and tried to hold the brief attention in order to cover the movement up. “So, um...am I the only one not from Atlas?”

“Looks like it.” Ashe gave a tight smile.

“Oh!” Chloe seemed genuinely surprised. “You’re from Atlas too!”

“Born and raised. My family’s in the insurance industry, actually.” Ashe’s sky-blue eyes were wide and innocent. “It’s not the kind of business that makes us a household name, I don’t blame you for not knowing.”

Pearl laughed. “Can’t relate. I’m teasing,” she assured them all hastily. As if it had been a joke. He might not be Schnee levels of prominent, but with the stranglehold Eugene Lagoon had on the fishing industry in Atlas and Mantle, he turned up on the news often enough that Fiona knew the name, even if she couldn’t always remember what it was he did.

Which meant Pearl’s family was very possibly the second or third wealthiest bloodline in Solitas. 

Something twisted in Fiona’s stomach. She had a nasty suspicion she knew where this conversation was going.

Ashe smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “What about you, Fiona?”

Fiona felt a flush creeping up her neck and hated it. What did _she_ have to be ashamed of, anyway? It wasn’t—she wasn’t embarrassed, she would never be embarrassed by her mother’s hard work, it was just—

Just nothing, they weren’t going to make her feel small with this.

Fiona set her jaw, ears flicking back, and answered stiffly, “My mom’s a cashier at Snowbird’s.” And apparently the only parent of anyone in this room who wasn’t a bloodsucking parasite. There was nothing _wrong_ about working at one of the most common department stores in Remnant.

Their reactions were exactly the awkward, distantly polite masks she’d expected.

“Oh, that’s nice!” Pearl said after just slightly too long a pause. “Where?”

“Mantle.”

“Oh wow!” Chloe, for some reason, suddenly looked _delighted_ now that she’d recovered from learning that the poors were actual people _._ One more peal of laughter was all it took for Fiona to decide she hated her. “My mom is actually on the board of Snowbird’s! That’s _so funny!_ We’re like, twinsies or something!”

Scratch hatred. Now she was on loathing.

“Definitely,” Fiona managed, thinking, _or something._ “Does your mom own Feldgrau Limited or Ebony Express too? That’d be hilarious. Mine works for all three, since the pay’s so bad.”

She really wasn’t sure whether Chloe was smart enough to pick up on the subtext of...well, Fiona’s words, but, you know, _anything._ She definitely noticed the flat tone in Fiona’s voice, though, and her smile faltered and became something much colder.

Before she had a chance to say anything, Ashe sat forward and put a hand over Chloe’s again. “Well,” she said, “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say, but it can’t be that bad if she’s choosing to work there.” She cocked her head to the side. “Hey Fiona, I’m curious. How _did_ you unlock that pocket dimension Semblance?”

Fiona froze.

“You...how do you _know_ that?” She’d completely failed to keep the shock out of her voice.

Ashe laughed and tapped her temple with two fingers. “Oh, I’m just good at reading people. But really, my Semblance lets me see what _other_ people’s Semblances are. In this cohort we have telekinesis, invisibility...there’s this one guy who just has _really_ good luck, that’s a cool one.”

Fiona finally managed to close her mouth, but she couldn’t banish the skin-crawling _unclean_ sensation at the casual way Ashe _said_ that. Semblances were...personal. A reflection of your soul; even in Atlas where values were more coolly scientific, that was nearly sacred. It wasn’t even okay to _ask_ someone about their Semblance directly, not outside pretty extreme circumstances. An ability like Ashe described was incredibly powerful and incredibly valuable, but—just _saying_ it out loud, like a weapon, without letting her _choose—_

“Oh that’s so cool!” Chloe’s chilliness towards Fiona had disappeared. “If I had that I’d shoplift just, so much stuff.”

Fiona felt her arms creeping around her stomach but couldn’t quite stop them. She’d gone to combat school, but it wasn’t exactly an elite prep school, and she’d been a lamb faunus with no friends and a weapon that was almost useless in hallways. She’d been thinking so hard about not wanting her lunches and books taken from her…

She’d tightened her grip and then they’d just...vanished, but she’d _known_ somehow that when she wanted to she could open her hand again and they’d be there. It had helped her survive, until she was older and better able to defend herself.

And she wasn’t telling these people that.

“I couldn’t get away with using it like that,” she managed, glancing at Ashe. Whatever her team leader’s problem was, Fiona was certain she hadn’t done anything wrong—how could she have, they’d just met—and Ashe at _least_ had to understand. “I was a faunus in Mantle, I got watched enough as it was. You know how that—”

“I mean,” Ashe suggested caustically. “Maybe they were watching you because you have a shoplifting semblance?”

“It’s _not—”_ Fiona bit on her tongue and tried very hard to calm down. She wasn’t stupid, she knew bait when she heard it. “I mean, I just, you know, vacuumed my scroll up by accident one day. It's really handy to never need a purse!”

That got a sensible chuckle out of Pearl and Chloe, but Ashe’s eyes kept boring into her soul.

All right. So _that’s_ how this was going to be.

“Oh, oh, I _have_ to know.” Ashe looked away from Fiona willingly enough when Pearl spoke up. “So, if someone hasn’t unlocked their Semblance yet…”

Fiona’s shoulders were tight enough that she thought she might have pulled a muscle.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” she said, barely enough to be heard. 

Chloe waved vaguely in acknowledgement without looking up. The others didn’t even respond, busy chattering away about—the topic of Semblances had been left behind somehow, and Fiona didn’t care enough to try to figure out where the conversation had gone now. She dug her pajamas and overnight bag out of her suitcase, by which point the topic had changed again and no one was paying her any mind at all.

Stubbornly forcing down the lump in her throat, Fiona slipped out of the dorm.

* * *

Fiona glanced at the clock at the front of the lecture hall and sighed with relief.

Five minutes to spare. That was...a lot less time than she would normally have given herself on the first day, but...all’s well that ends well, right? Maybe she had been a little overly cautious about showing up on time.

She stifled a yawn.

She didn’t know how _anyone_ got any sleep their first real night at the Academy. Classes in the morning or not, APCT had been so keyed up that it had been well past midnight before Ashe reluctantly acknowledged that they should probably turn in. Left to her own devices...first period started at 9:30, so Fiona would probably have set her alarm for 8:15, grabbed breakfast and gotten there in plenty of time.

The fact that Chloe’s alarm had gone off at seven in the morning was—fine. It was fine, Fiona told herself. Really. The fact that it had continued going off every ten minutes for an hour afterward was...less...fine. She’d just have to talk to her about it later. Chloe seemed nice enough, just, you know, clueless.

By that point Fiona had been planning to get up anyway, and since she was the only one on her team who apparently preferred evening showers she’d been dressed and packing her bag by the time the other three were back. But they’d all seemed so surprised and vaguely put off by Fiona’s obvious intent to leave without them, and...it _was_ their first day, she still felt vaguely guilty about accidentally almost ditching them and eating breakfast by herself.

And they’d gotten here just fine, so maybe Fiona just needed to take a deep breath and get used to having a team to coordinate with.

“So…” she offered. “Where do you want to sit? I try not to be too far forward, it’s hard to see the board.”

“Really?” said Chloe. “Weird. I like sitting near the front so the teachers can see me. We don’t _have_ to, though.”

Fiona scanned the packed freshman lecture. There weren’t a lot of team-sized gaps, at least not with the best views. They might have better luck over near the right-hand wall; RGEE had set up in that direction. Or, well, Robyn and Joanna had, she wasn’t sure where their teammates had gone.

Either sensing she was being watched or by coincidence, Robyn glanced up from talking to her partner and brightened. She half-raised a hand in greeting, gesturing toward the open seats next to her. 

“How about over here?” Ashe suggested, to enthusiastic agreement from Chloe and Pearl.

Fiona hesitated, then felt bad again. The empty group of chairs was still further back than Fiona would have preferred, but since she’d been outvoted…

She made an apologetic face in Robyn’s direction, gesturing after her team. Robyn held up her hands in surrender and smiled before turning back to Joanna, and Fiona scrambled in Chloe’s wake as Professor Flax called the class to order.

* * *

A collective wince ran through the class in time with the blare of an Aura buzzer. Lance Hawthorne went flying in one direction while his sword spiralled away in the other.

“Oof,” said Fiona.

Elm Ederne was _wicked_ with that hammer.

Neil and Sterling were two against three now. Clover, the tall guy Fiona hadn’t paid much attention to except to suppress the urge to wrinkle her nose at how squeaky-clean and _Atlesian_ he was, made an odd movement. Something glittering and nearly invisible snaked out from the hilt of what Fiona had assumed was a collapsed rifle, whiplike, and wrapped around both of Clover’s opponents. A flick of the wrist and they were yanked tight together; Robyn drew a bolt to her ear and loosed in less time than it took to say it, and the Fire dust exploded on impact.

Two more buzzers. Ow.

Low whistles and scattered applause started to swell from the audience, but the professor raised her hand for silence. Confused murmurs circled the arena; beside Fiona, Chloe frowned and muttered, “What’s her problem? That was good.”

Fiona didn’t look away from the arena; she’d already seen what the others had missed, and nudged Chloe in the side before pointing at the Aura level readouts.

“Marigold’s still in,” Ashe whispered before Chloe had a chance to look. “His Semblance is invisibility.”

It had been cleverly done. Joanna was a less flashy fighter than the rest of her team; most people probably hadn’t been watching her going staff-to-staff against the Marigold kid with his fancy silver double-ended rifle glaive. When Sterling Oak had swung in to rescue his overwhelmed teammate the light show from Sterling’s alternating Dust revolvers had created a massive distraction, and even Fiona hadn’t noticed for a few moments that Marigold had just _vanished_ in the chaos.

RGEE didn’t have Ashe Angara’s...insider knowledge...but they had realized something was up, and Robyn at least had correctly deduced that it had something to do with his Semblance. She called to Clover and signalled him back in toward the group, turning to put him at her back— 

The buzzer blared.

Robyn had recovered too late; a point-blank shot between the shoulders from the thin rifle barrels framing Marigold’s glaives made her Aura flare wild shades of emerald, and a lightning-fast slash with the elegant curved blades finished it off. 

He was visible, his Semblance broken by the attack; Fiona leaned forward in her seat as Joanna whipped around and brought her staff down at his head. He spun and knocked it mostly aside, still making midnight-blue Aura glow down his entire left side as the blow jarred his shoulder. By then it was three against one; he lasted a few seconds before a fifth and final buzzer ended the match.

This time, there was nothing mild about the applause. Marigold’s teammates, dazed and a little embarrassed but grinning all the same, joined in as they got to their feet. 

Robyn offered the kid a handshake. Fiona couldn’t make out what she said over the rush of enthusiastic conversation that always followed a good fight, but she could just about understand Marigold’s response. He ran a hand through his navy hair, looking at the floor before shoving his hands self-consciously into the pockets of his Academy hoodie. But he was smiling, all the same.

“Lucky shot,” he told her.

“Bullshit,” Robyn grinned in response. “Next time I’ll beat your ass, though.”

The class was waved quiet. Professor Dogwood clapped a few times to be polite before prompting the audience, “I’m sure that fight gave you a great deal to think about. I’d like you to take thirty minutes to talk as teams about what you can learn about tactics from what you just observed. At the end of thirty minutes we’ll reconvene and use the rest of the class period to compare our impressions.”

“Right.” Ashe turned slightly in her chair; Pearl and Chloe leaned in, and Fiona leaned back in an attempt to see her better. “So, obviously, pairing a control fighter and a ranged fighter made a huge difference.”

Chloe gave a languid wave. “Sniper.”

Pearl leaned into her happily. “Control. My weapon _is_ also a semiautomatic rifle,” she clarified. “But the harpoons are what I base my fighting style around.”

Ashe nodded seriously. “Of course. We want to make sure you’re fighting in the capacity that makes the most use of your skills. Can you give us a rundown?”

“I think my cables and Ebi’s fishing line are made of the same material, actually,” Pearl began. “It has incredible tensile strength, enough to restrain most Grimm. Two options for the harpoons—bound to the gun, and bound to a piton fired into the ground. It’s just a setting difference, but it takes a few seconds to switch between configurations.” 

Fiona, who’d tried and failed to get Ashe’s attention, offered, “I’m also based around control.”

Her staff—which was a _staff,_ call it a shepherd’s crook and there’d be problems—was simple; Dust was expensive, especially when you were just a prep school student with no Atlas Academy stipend and your mom was struggling enough already. No tricks, no clever engineering, just a solid lightweight collapsible staff with a bladed hook on one end. A trigger near the top switched the...fine, the crook...between three different widths. The idea was to yank an opponent off their balance, pull weapons from their hands, trip up Grimm or force their heads under control.

Back in combat school, her teachers had called her a support fighter and her classmates had called her useless on her own. She’d asked her mom, once, if there was _really_ no way to mod a rifle to it...

Well, she could certainly do that now. She’d have to think about it.

“Good,” said Ashe, not sounding all that interested. “So, pairing control with a sniper, and then pairing the sniper with a melee fighter.”

“You’re melee,” Fiona pointed out.

Ashe hummed. “I guess. I think we should stick with partner pairs, though. Someone has to spot the sniper. I mean...that’s a really deep bond, it should be a partner thing. And hey, you said you’re control and melee both, right? That sounds perfect for you.”

“Right,” Fiona agreed. It felt off, but—she wasn’t wrong, and spotting the sniper _was_ an important position. Chloe would be completely vulnerable while lining up her shots. Whatever Ashe’s problem with her had been last night, she thought, suddenly feeling much better about the situation, it didn’t look like it was going to impact her combat decisions.

“So I think we should plan some moves out,” Ashe continued. “Get a few plans in place so that we don’t just have to constantly react in the moment like SLMN did. Pearl? Do you have any ideas?”

Pearl tilted her head. “Well,” she said. “I was thinking…”

* * *

Fiona tapped her pen against her notebook, thinking. 

She knew _most_ people were either not spending much time on this assignment, or else looking up the answers to be certain. That was Chloe and Ashe respectively, actually; they’d said as much before Fiona had left to set up in the library. And they were probably right; it was just a “pre-test” worksheet for Laws And Regulations 101, and she was _definitely_ overthinking it. 

It wasn’t even going to be graded; it was just a single sheet of true/false and multiple choice questions, to gauge their knowledge and understanding of what the rules for being a Huntress were at the beginning of their Academy careers, versus when they were ready to graduate. And it served as a way for the instructors to know what areas they needed to focus most on.

So Fiona definitely wanted to give an accurate impression. But she also didn’t want to come across as ignorant, even if admitting ignorance was the point of the assignment. She _did_ understand what she was signing up for, even if she might not know chapter and verse...

Eventually she tapped her pen so hard she lost her grip and sent it clattering across the opposite side of the table.

Grumbling to herself, Fiona was already standing when a familiar voice called, “Don’t bother. I’ll get it.”

“You don’t have to,” Fiona said, apologetic, as Robyn and Joanna strolled down the line of bookshelves. She did sit back down though, and Robyn snatched her pen off the floor and, with no change in her blandly pleasant expression, flicked it back across the table and into Fiona’s lap. “Ow. Thanks.”

Robyn’s grin took any sting out of the impact. “I thought fetching each other things was the entire foundation of our friendship.”

Fiona coughed to cover a laugh. “That’s not how I remember it. Hey, Robyn.”

“Nice to see you again,” Joanna greeted her. “You lucked out. Got away from this asshole while you had the chance.” That prompted a faux-offended scoff and a nudge in the ribs from Robyn.

Fiona’s laugh must have been even less convincing than it felt.

Ugh. She’d forgotten how perceptive Robyn was when she wasn’t caught up in the game of outwitting whoever her opponent happened to be at the time; Robyn’s brow creased, just enough, and her casual tone as she dropped onto the bench next to Fiona and rested both elbows on the table was about as convincing as Fiona’s laughter had been a second ago.

“So how’re you settling in, lambchop?” she asked. “I hope your teammates haven’t starved to death with you around conning innocent students out of their hard-won dinners.”

That time, Fiona’s snort was genuine. “They’re fine,” she said. “It’s weird because we don’t know each other very well and, like...even Ashe has a lot more in common with them than with me. But most teams take time to mesh, right? We’ll figure it out.”

Robyn looked a little too worried for a few moments too long; but then she smiled and ruffled Fiona’s hair. “Of course you will. We haven’t quite clicked yet either, you know. Clover and Elm are nice enough, but…”

“Hard to hold a conversation with,” Joanna supplied. “Clover accidentally sat on my staff and now it’s stuck up his ass.”

“Could be worse,” Fiona muttered, finally committing to ‘False’ on the statement ‘Huntsmen and Huntresses, when fully licensed, have the power to detain civilians for limited periods of time without formal charges’. “You could be on a team with three fuckoff-rich Atlesians.”

“Ouch,” remarked the Marigold kid—whose name Fiona was embarrassed to realize she’d forgotten—as he emerged from the stacks with a cardboard drink tray. “But fair. In my defense, I _did_ bring coffee.”

“You’re forgiven,” Robyn smirked. She reached out and pulled one of the paper coffee cups free.

“I’ve actually known Pearl and Chloe since we were kids, they’re _total_ shitheads.” Marigold plucked the second drink out of the carrying tray and slid the third to Joanna. To Fiona, he added, “If I’d known you were here I’d have asked what you wanted from the cafe, sorry. Oh, hey. Speaking of which! Joanna! _You’re a freak of nature.”_

“Oh, _whew,”_ Fiona sighed. “I thought nobody was gonna say it.”

Joanna grinned and flipped Marigold off, taking a long swig of her iced coffee as she leaned back into the draft from the window she’d just cracked open. “It’s hot in here.”

“Well, it _was,”_ Marigold agreed.

Fiona shivered as a tendril of freezing air snaked around her. Robyn’s lips twitched. Shaking her head in despair, she shrugged out of her jacket.

“You soft inner-city Mantle kids,” she said warmly, tossing the heavy leather-and-canvas jacket over Fiona’s shoulders. “Can’t handle a little subclinical hypothermia.”

Fiona stuck her tongue out, but she also tugged Robyn’s jacket tight around her.

It wasn’t the worn leather longcoat that had so quickly become her signature identifier in a sea of armor and combat skirts. It was an old Academy letter jacket from a Vytal Festival about twenty years back, when Atlas had hosted. Fiona actually had no idea where she’d gotten it, but she had to guess a thrift store. Actual qualifying teams had their own jacket style, and those _never_ ended up in stores, they were family heirlooms; but the generic versions were sold during the Festival to anyone who wanted one and were so common they didn’t even really count as vintage. 

Technically, though, it was still an official Academy jacket, and those were permitted by the uniform regs. So the school had to let her wear it.

Lucky for Fiona. It was _warm,_ especially considering Robyn had been wearing it all day.

“It’s, oh, let me check.” Marigold pulled out his scroll. _“Negative seventeen degrees_ on the tundra just outside city limits. I’m actually pretty sure my pathetic ivory-tower upbringing has nothing to do with this one.”

Robyn took a sip of her coffee and glanced to the side, meeting Fiona’s gaze with eyes that sparkled with suppressed laughter. 

Finally, Fiona giggled. Leaning into Robyn’s shoulder, she pulled the battered letter jacket closed and settled in to watch Marigold and Joanna sniping back and forth about common sense and sheltered socialites who couldn’t hold their frostbite.

The world probably wouldn’t end, if she put her homework off for a few minutes.

* * *

“...and a final reminder that your first paper is due in three weeks,” Professor Brandy concluded, wrapping up her beginning-of-class announcements.

Fiona winced as she dropped into her seat. They weren’t _late,_ class had just started a few minutes early. But Brandy’s classes did that sometimes, since she didn’t attach any penalty to slightly late arrivals. Which was why Fiona had _wanted_ to leave breakfast earlier.

She made an irritated mental note that next time, she was just going to go when she was ready, and not wait for her team. If it was so important to Chloe that they do things together, she could eat faster.

“Does anyone else have a housekeeping question?” Brandy scanned the lecture hall for a moment before nodding. “All right then! Does anyone have thoughts on this week’s readings?”

“Can we have a shorter one next time?” Sterling Oak joked, prompting light laughter around the lecture hall. “But no, seriously, it’s wild how we just...gave the CCT to the world without asking for anything in return.”

Ashe raised her hand; when Brandy nodded in her direction, she added, “I know what you mean. There was one line that really resonated with me. I mentioned it to Chloe last night, actually. The part about...the CCT towers as a symbol, if I’m remembering correctly? I think the way the reading put it was that it was a sign of Atlas having learned to use its strength and resources to benefit, rather than harm, the other Kingdoms. That’s really powerful.”

“That’s an interesting characterization,” Robyn interjected, and Fiona couldn’t quite hide a smirk at the far-too-friendly tone of her voice. “Because it seems to me that the CCT was more a form of war reparations cleverly _framed_ as philanthropy.”

“Raise your hand, please, Miss Hill,” Brandy said mildly. “But your point stands. Does anyone have a response to that viewpoint?”

Ashe, again, raised a hand and was acknowledged. “Well,” she said reasonably. “Whatever your opinion of Atlas’ motivations, by definition the CCT _couldn’t_ be considered reparations. The other Kingdoms didn’t force or require it from us, it was given freely. I think it’s a bit cynical to act like Atlas and its scientists couldn’t possibly have been motivated by a genuine desire to do the right thing. After the Great War, the other Kingdoms would have been scared and uncomfortable around Atlas.”

“And fear brings the Grimm,” Brandy agreed. “Go on.”

“Oh, no, that was all I wanted to say,” Ashe assured her with a smile. “It just seems like the CCT towers are a very clear example of real generosity. Isn’t it a good thing, Atlas admitting that it was wrong? An act of kindness to show that the Kingdom of Atlas was dedicating itself to aiding and improving the lives of everyone on Remnant, not just itself.”

Robyn’s hand shot up, and thank the gods it had, because if Ashe kept talking then Fiona’s eyes were liable to roll out of her skull. “Oh, no, I know I sound cynical, but I actually _do_ think the CCT is a beautiful symbol. Less as a sign of Atlesian generosity and more of much-needed humility.”

Ashe’s smile got even sweeter. Ignoring the hand-raising rule, she asked, “How do you mean?”

“Interconnectedness,” Robyn responded. “Interdependency. Atlas made itself _vulnerable_ with the CCT net. That took courage. No one kingdom holds absolute power; if one suffers, the others suffer. If we’re discussing symbolism, that’s a very complicated and impressive statement to make to the world. All I’m saying is that because of that, the CCT is _also_ an incredibly potent form of soft power, isn’t it? It was constructed with Atlesian resources, and it continues to be operated and maintained by Atlesian mechanics. Repairs are conducted by us and, as a result, those repairs are a very powerful bargaining chip in other negotiations. Even idealistically—in saying ‘we understand now that we depend on each other,’ Atlas was also saying ‘you depend on _us’_ and avoiding further sanctions or reprisals for their crimes during the Great War.”

Ashe maintained her pleasant expression, but sitting next to her Fiona could see her tail curled tight around a chair leg. “Atlas didn’t actually _exist_ during the Great War, did it?” 

“Yes Ashe,” Robyn said with only the barest hint of condescension. “At the time it was known as the Kingdom of Mantle. But I don’t see how that bit of semantics actually changes—”

“That’s a very interesting point you’ve raised, Miss Hill,” Brandy interrupted. “We do need to keep moving, so I’d like to open this up to the class for just a few quick comments. If anyone has any thoughts on that alternate perspective?”

Absolutely _no_ one wanted to follow Robyn. Fiona swallowed a smile mostly because Ashe was still bristling. Across the room Robyn was clearly miffed at being cut off—knowing her, Fiona suspected she’d been about to launch into a point about Menagerie’s exclusion from the network—and beside her Clover’s carefully-neutral expression seemed just a touch put out. But Joanna was openly grinning, and two rows behind them Marigold was cracking a smirk himself.

All right, maybe he really was okay. He didn’t like Chloe, after all, which was a mean reason for Fiona to decide she liked him but was still the official reason she was going with.

After the fiery opening, the rest of class didn’t manage to keep Fiona’s attention very well. _Everyone_ knew about the founding of Atlas and the end of the Great War, they’d done that unit almost every other year since elementary school. At least it didn’t drag on; before too long, the bell rang and Ashe wasted no time shoving her computer and textbook into her bag.

“Let’s get out of here,” she griped. “Come on.”

Fiona hesitated, but just for a moment.

“I’ll see you guys later, actually,” she said. “I’m gonna print out some references and get lunch before shop class.”

Ashe looked between Fiona and the door, where Robyn and Joanna were lingering, and rolled her eyes. “Right, of course you are. I suppose there’s no point in asking if your _actual_ team is invited?”

Chloe laughed, typing something into her scroll without looking up. After a moment, she started to hum a weirdly-loud tune.

Fiona blinked. “I mean...you can be? Chloe? If you _want_ to come you’re welcome—”

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Ashe waved her off. “We’re all allowed to have other friends. Even if they _are_ upjumped rabble-rousers…”

“Go hang out with your friends,” Pearl translated. “We’ll see you later. Have fun!”

“Right.” Fiona glanced over her shoulder. Robyn held up her hands in a casual ‘take your time’ gesture. “Uh...later then. Thanks?”

She was halfway out the door before a sudden burst of hastily stifled laughter behind her finally helped her place where she knew Chloe’s tune.

_...had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb…_

She should say something; but it was just Chloe being kind of an ass again, and that was never worth her time. At the very least, she didn’t feel like escalating it into a fight.

Fiona swallowed bile, shook herself, and broke into a jog to catch up with Robyn.

* * *

_The subject of volatility and energy potential in various forms of raw and processed Dust is an ongoing science. Many common perceptions, despite being taught in lower-level combat training across Remnant and even within Atlas itself, are incorrect. For example, ground Dust, or Dust powder, is indeed more likely to ignite when agitated and requires exponentially less force in order to activate—making it most suitable for use in ammunition and controlled operations. However, this has contributed to a common misperception..._

Chloe squealed with laughter, and Fiona couldn’t keep her ears from twitching back as she lost her train of thought. Taking a deep breath, she picked up her pen and returned to taking notes on this next chapter.

_...a common misperception that raw or shaped Dust crystals have lower explosive potential, leading to many tragedies that might have been avoided. This introductory chapter is intended as a reference guide to the benefits and drawbacks of Dust in every state. It is essential in this quest for understanding to be familiar with the most common cuts of Dust crystals and their qualities. #1: The Square Cut…._

Normally, Fiona would have taken her books to the library if she intended to get any work done. But this afternoon Ashe, Chloe, and Pearl had announced _their_ intentions to go to the library, and Fiona had jumped at the chance to do her readings without having to wear pants.

Apparently, their study session hadn’t been very long or else they’d decided to cancel it; because barely two hours later, here they were, back in their shared room. Fiona was trying to tough it out now that she’d started. She really just wanted to get through her work for shop class; she could relocate when she switched subjects.

She was trying very, very hard to just focus on Dust engineering. It was a good distraction from the topic of the moment with the rest of her team, which was…

“...just don’t see why _anyone_ should get special treatment,” Pearl was explaining. “I mean, we all agree it would be wrong to do that for _humans,_ don’t we?”

“People in Mantle just want to find excuses for why they’re not up here,” Ashe said, and the good thing about Atlas Academy’s bunkbeds was that Fiona didn’t have to hide the way she gagged. “Easier for them to ask for handouts than to actually put in the effort.”

“Right?” exclaimed Chloe. “Ugh. I _hate_ faunus like that. Not _you,_ obviously,” she rushed to clarify, her voice a sugary coo that would...actually be a lot easier to stomach if it was fake. “You’re one of the _good_ ones.”

“Psh,” Ashe said, “I’m the _best_ one.” This prompted a round of laughter while Fiona mouthed a silent _oh my gods, kill me._ “I completely know what you mean, though. My family fought hard for a long time to get where we are, just like everyone else in Atlas. I mean, there’s no difference, really, right? We’re just humans with ears or tails.”

“Of course you are,” Pearl agreed. “I would _never_ treat someone differently just because they’re a faunus, that’s awful! It’s not like it’s _their_ fault. But shouldn’t that go both ways?”

Fiona resolutely pulled out her scroll and shoved her earbuds in, setting her music to shuffle at slightly too high a volume. _Nope._ Nope, nope, nope. No, no, absolutely not, you could not _pay_ her to listen to any more of this conversation.

That, as their professors had been counseling them all semester, was called _self-care._

It took twenty minutes to finish what should have been ten more minutes of notes; listening to music was distracting when she was trying to write bullet points on a highly technical chapter. Finally, Fiona decided to risk coming up for air.

Good. The conversation had meandered away from faunus rights for now and onto the subject of The Cute And Eligible Males Of Atlas Academy, a subject that didn’t interest Fiona in the slightest for _several_ reasons but at least wasn’t likely to make her blood boil.

With a sigh of relief, she pulled her Grimm identification manual toward her and began dividing her notebook pages into sixths to make flash cards.

“That quiet brooding thing he’s got going on is so _dreamy,_ you know?” 

Pearl and Ashe tripped over themselves agreeing that it was _so_ dreamy. Fiona took a deep breath and double-checked her spelling of ‘Megalioth’ before moving on.

“What does it for me is that he’s so down to earth,” Pearl sighed. “Like, have you talked to him? He’s not fake at all.”

“That’s rare,” Ashe agreed. “Especially for a Marigold.”

Fiona, who felt she owed poor Marigold some solidarity at this point, snapped her notebook closed and grabbed her pants.

Library it was.

* * *

The Aura buzzer blared again. Fiona sighed.

Nero Silver had been the last of Team MNTC still on his feet, and Ashe had taken him out fairly easily once his partner was down. Pearl’s Aura had dipped into the red a few minutes ago, but she was the only one. They’d done really well in this fight. Fiona should be a lot happier than she was.

“Well done, girls,” Ashe called, unconcerned. “Pearl? Gosh, are you okay?”

Pearl made a careless gesture as they made their way back through the locker rooms. “I will be.”

“Oh, good. And thanks for the assist, Chloe, you know how much we appreciate you out there.”

“Aww!” Chloe preened. “You’re _too_ sweet, Ashe.”

Fiona didn’t bother waiting for praise; it’s not like she’d done anything praiseworthy in that round. Funny how that always worked out.

“You were pretty fantastic yourself, Ashe,” she said instead. “You’re getting really good. I mean, you’ve always been good! But you’re even better now.”

Pearl laughed. “We know what you meant.”

“Heh.” Fiona scratched the back of her head. “You know, I was kind of hoping...I don’t get a lot of practice? Because I’m always spotting Chloe, and, you know. She’s a good sniper, so people usually don’t get close. Could we put me in with Pearl for a few rounds next week? I just could use the experience.”

“Hmm.” Ashe at least made a show of thinking about it. “I’m not sure, Fiona. I mean, you are keeping up training on your own time, right? Not just in self-directed team sparring or in class? You need to do that, the rest of us all are.”

“Of course I am! It’s just different, of course I’m still training—”

“Calm _down,_ I’m just checking. That’s my _job,”_ Ashe reminded her. “I really wish you’d said something earlier in the semester, Fiona. You have to _tell_ me these things. Now we’re past midterms already and we’re getting seriously evaluated as a team. I need to think about what’s best for our performance as a whole, and by now me and Pearl are used to working together. We don’t really know how your fighting style would even work with hers, and I don’t want to compromise our dynamic by changing things so late in the year.”

“I know,” Fiona said, feeling a little desperate. “But I really need…”

Ashe gave a heavy sigh. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Oh, Fiona had heard _that_ before. Why did she even bother...

Another buzzer sounded, calling them all back to the front of the training room. “Alright,” the professor said once they’d convened, “after that performance, I’d like to close out with a few one-on-one matches. Do we have any volunteers?”

“I’m game,” Robyn said, raising her hand. “I need to break in a new weapon.”

“Thank you, Miss Hill. Do we have another?”

“I’m up for another round,” Clover said.

Robyn gave a good-natured laugh and patted him on the back. It almost made Fiona smile, even as something ached in her chest; RGEE was solidifying after their rough start. They’d started getting along, in a way APCT still hadn’t. “I appreciate that Clover, but no, I want to try it without my lucky charm to help.”

Clover smiled and squeezed her shoulder briefly. “Well, good luck anyway, Robyn.”

Robyn’s gaze scanned the crowd, and quickly landed on her. “Fiona, you worn out or can you go again?”

Fiona scrambled to her feet so fast she almost dropped her staff, and was so relieved by the chance to actually do something that she almost didn’t notice the titters from the class.

Somewhere on the other side of the room, someone whistled a few bars of a song that was getting irritatingly familiar. Fiona ignored it. You’d think no one in this school had any friends.

Robyn winked and vaulted the barrier down into the arena. Fiona ordinarily would have just taken the stairs...but there was excitement and just a bit of spite bubbling up her spine. She grinned, leapt over the wall, and extended her staff mid-leap to hook over the edge of the barrier; she was shorter than Robyn and had further to fall. Once she’d arrested her momentum by bracing against the wall, she collapsed it again and landed lightly on the balls of her feet.

“Not bad, lambchop,” Robyn grinned. “Next time you have a free hour, remind me to show you how Mantle freerunners handle drops like that, you’d be a natural.”

Professor Dogwood cleared her throat and gestured for them to cut the banter and get in position.

Robyn stepped back into a ready position, flexing her fingers to activate her new weapon. Fiona had listened to her plan it in painstaking detail for months, and it was a really cool design; she’d have trouble with muscle memory, though, switching to a one-handed crossbow after so many years as an archer, and she wouldn’t know how to really use that bladed fan; she’d only been training with it for a few weeks.

Fiona gripped her folded staff, grateful that she’d taken a leaf out of Marigold’s book and modded a spearhead and narrow razor blade to the base. For the moment, she left the hook on its widest extension.

She might actually _win_ this one, she thought. Normally, Robyn was a better, more flexible fighter; but Fiona had used this weapon since she was twelve years old. 

“Ready,” Dogwood ordered. A twitch of Robyn’s fingers loaded a Dust bolt; that first shot would be a real danger. “And...begin!”

Robyn’s wrist snapped up, a white-tipped bolt whistling through the space Fiona’s head had been a heartbeat earlier and exploding harmlessly against the arena wall. Fiona dropped to her knees and rolled, getting inside Robyn’s range and extending her staff viciously, sharp end out.

There was a clash of metal as Robyn’s feathered fan blades caught the spear and knocked it aside; but only barely, at the last moment, and the angle prevented her from getting another shot off. Another bolt loaded itself at a movement Fiona hadn’t seen; the split-second warning that Robyn was going to break bladelock was enough for Fiona to lunge upward and trigger the crossbow herself, sending a Fire bolt into the ceiling and disengaging on her own.

There were a few more exchanges of blows; Fiona was trying very hard to keep out of the direct line formed by that falcon-headed crossbow, and Robyn was trying very hard to stay at range and away from Fiona and what Joanna had christened the Poking Stick.

Fiona made the first mistake. Robyn had been winding up for a hard slash with the fan blades; Fiona had responded like she would if it had been Ashe, in their team sparring sessions, coming at her with a sword. She’d sidestepped, getting the crook around Robyn’s elbow and yanking hard to ruin the inertia of the blow.

But Robyn’s weapon was part of a gauntlet. Fiona’s staff had gotten stuck on the base of the crossbow, yanking it around and pointing it directly at her chest. She’d collapsed it to escape, but not fast enough, and taken a hard punch of Gravity dust at point-blank range that knocked her Aura almost to orange.

Fiona made the _first_ mistake, but from there she made fewer of them. She’d told Ashe the truth, on their first day; her weapon was modeled around controlling a fight, and Fiona wasn’t the only support fighter in this arena. If they’d both had backup, Robyn would have taken her out by now. Alone…

Fiona jabbed and jerked, getting a crook around Robyn’s ankles and knees to trip her up, forcing her to ruin her own firing lines in order to shield her face and prevent Fiona from hooking her throat and really doing damage. The glaive and spearhead flashed and commanded attention, making it easier to pivot at the last second and send brutal blunt-force blows into Robyn’s ribs. 

Especially, Fiona thought with glee, because they’d sparred a lot _before_ she modded the blades on. Back then her only real weapon had been the crook itself, and she’d used the flat end as the distraction; a threat of a rib-cracking that drew her opponents’ focus away and let her flick the hook in to yank their feet out from under them.

Which was, ultimately, exactly what happened. One last feint with the crook let her flip the staff in her hands, knocking Robyn’s weapon hand _hard_ down toward the floor. Fiona jabbed her in the throat for good measure, swung the hook around and hauled her forward while she was off-balance, swept a leg across her shins and tackled her to the ground. One hand pinning Robyn’s weapon arm to the ground, she flipped her staff one last time to put the bladed edge to her throat.

 _“Yield,”_ she ordered, pleased at how much steel she’d managed to put into her voice.

Technically, there’d been no buzzer; Robyn’s Aura was very near the line, but she wasn’t disqualified yet. After a loaded moment, however, she grinned and tapped Fiona’s arm three times.

Whoops and a few whistles broke out. Fiona clambered off Robyn’s chest and offered her a hand up, which was accepted with good grace. Fiona bounced a few times on the balls of her feet to bleed off excess adrenaline, unable to keep the exhilaration off her face.

“Thanks for making me look good,” Robyn told her. “I’ll get you on the rematch. Feel better?”

Fiona couldn’t answer; she was smiling too wide.

* * *

Fiona pulled the pillow away from her head and glared at the glowing blue 01:15 on the digital wall clock.

“Hey, guys?” she said, for the third time. “I mean it, I really need to sleep. We can’t keep doing this.”

“Oh, did earplugs not work?” asked Chloe, sounding genuinely surprised. “I thought you were already sleeping!”

“No, the earplugs aren’t enough,” Fiona responded, trying to keep from snapping. “I told you that. If you’re gonna be up for a while, could you go somewhere else?”

“It’s not that late, Fiona,” said Ashe.

“I know.” Fiona was trying so, so hard to be reasonable. “And I know we’re Academy students and everything, but I really do need a better sleep schedule. Remember, we agreed?”

Irritation bled into Ashe’s voice. “I don’t know about _agreed,_ ” she said. “It was really mostly you telling us what _you_ wanted. This is a team decision, you know.”

“Yeah,” agreed Chloe. “There’s three of us. The rest of us don’t want to go to bed this early, if it bothers you then _you_ should move.”

“It’s okay, Fiona,” called Pearl. “We won’t be up much longer.”

“That’s what you said an hour ago!” Fiona protested. “Please? I’m tired. You guys can talk anywhere, there’s only one place where I can sleep.”

Ashe sighed and stood up from where the three of them were lounging in and around her cubbyhole; the others followed suit, getting to their feet so they could look Fiona in the eye.

“Listen,” she said, firm but sounding perfectly reasonable. “We really are trying, you know. I think we’ve been really patient with you. But we have needs too, you can’t just make us live our lives around making you comfortable.”

“I’m not,” Fiona protested. “I’m only asking for one thing!”

“Well, you need to learn how to compromise,” Ashe told her sternly. “Because we’re not changing any of our behaviors.”

Fiona blinked, flabbergasted; before she could come up with a response to that, the three of them had retreated back to Ashe’s bunk. After a few seconds, the music from Chloe’s tinny scroll speakers started up again.

Fiona clenched her fists, rolled over, and tried not to scream.

* * *

Robyn wasn’t sure if she had been asleep, but she definitely wasn’t now that her scroll was buzzing at her.

Groggy, she patted the mattress until her fingers brushed metal. A tap, and the scroll’s split halves expanded enough for her to cringe away from the blinding light and frantically lower the brightness settings. Once her retinas no longer felt like they were being burned out, she was able to read the notification.

_2 new messages from: Fiona Thyme_

Robyn frowned. Fiona hated being up this late, and they had a morning class…

FT: _hey_

FT: _are you awake_

Shifting onto one elbow, Robyn picked her scroll up to respond. Before she could start typing, however, several more messages followed the first.

FT: _wait shit you’re sleeping aren’t you_  
FT: _did i just wake you up?_  
FT: _wait this is making it worse_

As quickly as she could, Robyn sent back:

RH: _It’s fine, I wasn’t asleep yet. What’s wrong, lambchop?_

A pause, a typing notification hovering on the screen before vanishing for several seconds, appearing, disappearing. Finally:

FT: _nothing_  
FT: _teammates are loud is all_

Oh, not again. Robyn winced.

RH: _Did you end up talking to them?_  
FT: _yeah_  
FT: _they were really nice about it the first time_  
RH: _Not nice enough to actually stop._  
FT: _yeah i noticed  
_ FT: _it’s a lot to ask_  
FT: _i mean we’re academy students, this is pretty normal_

Robyn stared at the screen for a moment and tried to articulate a response that didn’t involve incoherent screaming.

RH: _It’s not a lot to ask for them to respect you, Fiona._

Her finger hovered over the send button before she sighed and deleted the message.

RH: _What do you need?_

Fiona’s response was lightning-fast and accompanied by a flat-faced grimm emoji.

FT: _sleep_

Robyn’s lips twitched. She typed her response and, again, hesitated. She...knew her reputation, greatly exaggerated though it may be, and that she was part of a small group of people that were Fiona’s only support system. It would be so easy for this to be misinterpreted, to make her uncomfortable, but—

RH: _I can’t hear them from here. If you want to camp out, my bunk has space for two._  
RH: _Well, one and a half, but you’re tiny._

The typing notification was _really_ stressful this time.

FT: _oh gods are you sure that’d be okay? i don’t want to be a bother_

Relief made Robyn almost dizzy.

RH: _If you snore I’ll complain about it tomorrow. Come on over, the door’s open.  
_ FT: _gods thank you so much  
_ FT: _i owe you one robyn_

Smiling, Robyn slid her scroll closed and rolled out of bed, grateful to Joanna once again for insisting on the top bunk because of her longer arms, legs, torso, and entire body. She flipped the lock open and snagged the standard-issue white bathrobe she’d never used from a hook behind the door before flopping back into bed.

Barely ten seconds later, the door opened just a crack and Fiona edged inside.

“Lock the door,” Robyn whispered. After a pause there was a faint click, and Fiona tiptoed across the room. She sat down, ears folded back miserably and shoulders tight, and Robyn’s heart ached.

 _They don’t deserve you,_ she thought, but that sentiment wasn’t likely to make Fiona feel any better right now.

Instead, Robyn scooted back against the wall and lifted one corner of her blanket with a smile, not caring whether Fiona realized she probably shouldn’t be able to maintain eye contact in the dark like this. Without a sound, Fiona pressed into the limited empty space on the mattress. Every line of her body was stiff and unhappy, but she curled up in Robyn’s bathrobe to compensate for the fact that she’d been in too much of a hurry to bring her blanket with her and some of the tension started to fade.

Robyn, trying to save room as well as keep her from slipping off the other side, let an arm fall around her waist.

By the time she worked up the courage to whisper, “You’re never a bother, you know. You’re my team too,” Fiona was already fast asleep.

* * *

Balancing the stack of books in one arm and clutching her pen between her teeth, Fiona managed to shimmy her scroll out of her pocket and hold it up to the door lock. It buzzed, and she shouldered the door open and let herself into her dorm just before a second electronic buzz signaled the lock timeout.

In retrospect, Fiona thought, it probably would have been easier to just use her Semblance on the stupid textbooks.

“Wow, Fiona,” said Chloe as Fiona dropped her books on the narrow strip of desktop she’d been able to maintain a claim on. “How much extra credit do _you_ need in World History?”

“What?” Fiona spat her pen out. “Oh. No, these are just some books Robyn said are interesting. I need something to read to relax.”

Pearl shot a skeptical look at the pile. Which, okay, some of the books _were_ thick. But that was helped by the fact that they were hardback, and Fiona had already read parts of a few of them; Robyn had good taste in accessible, well-researched nonfiction. “That’s relaxing? Okay.”

Ashe gave half a smile. “Well, of course you’d read textbooks for fun if _Robyn_ recommended them.”

“I’m surprised you had time to talk about—uh,” Chloe giggled, tilting her head to read along the spine of one of the books. “The influence of rising industrialism on Mantle's poets? Oh, _Fiona._ You’ve got it _bad,_ girl.” 

Fiona shot her a look. “Don’t be like that. Robyn is a good friend.”

Pearl laughed. “Well, no one’s arguing with that.”

“I mean it, Pearl.” Fiona’s ears pointed back. “We’re _just_ friends.”

“We believe you, Fiona.” Ashe’s words were warm and kind; her grin was anything but. “I read two-inch textbooks on... _Heroism in the Evacuation of Mountain Glenn_ because my friends vaguely mentioned liking them, just, _all_ the time.”

“Mmmhmm.” Pearl, lounging in the top bunk, turned one page of her notebook. “And I spend more nights in their beds than mine, too.”

Chloe sat up, encouraged. Or maybe just eager for an excuse to set aside her homework for a few minutes. “You gotta make your move! I mean, that’s assuming we believe you haven’t already. Which, _okay._ It’s been like a semester and a half already, go _get_ her."

“Chloe, come on!” Fiona didn’t bother hiding her irritation. “It’s not actually funny.”

“Hey.” Pearl looked up, smiling. “We’re not making fun of you, Fiona. I think it’s cute!”

“It really is,” agreed Chloe. “Like...that is the biggest crush I’ve ever seen. You follow her around like—”

“Don’t say it,” Fiona snarled.

“Like a puppy,” Chloe finished, rolling her eyes. “I was going to say like a puppy!”

“Honestly, Fiona.” Ashe shook her head. “Lighten up. Are we not allowed to be happy for you? It really is just...adorable. I’d hate to see you get hurt, though. You probably don’t know this, but she has kind of a _reputation.”_

Fiona shook her head. “Those are nasty rumors, she’s not—I mean, a few, but it’s not like that, she’s…”

“Not that you _care_ who she sleeps with or anything,” Chloe laughed.

Fiona felt her face burning, and the anger only made it worse. “I just...she’s my friend,” she managed, aware of how pathetic it sounded.

“Hey, I don’t blame you.” Pearl gave a languid shrug. “I mean, if you’re gonna pick someone to thirst after, _that_ sure is a tall glass of water right there.”

Ashe made a face. “Really? _Robyn Hill?_ I’ll be honest, I don’t get why half the Academy’s so obsessed with her. Her and the rest of _Argee,”_ she mocked. Fiona couldn’t even get defensive about that; Robyn’s team mocked their own acronym as well, and nobody but the professors ever actually called them Team Rouge. It still felt wrong, meaner, coming from Ashe in that tone. “She’s a decent tactician, but other than that she’s just kind of...you know. Self-righteous and loud about it. Not even that good a fighter on her own. No offense, Fiona.”

Fiona glared. She’d heard the unspoken ‘crater trash’ in that weighted pause, but didn’t bother arguing. It was never worth getting into it with Ashe.

Pearl leaned over to grin down at her partner. “I mean, I’m not bringing her home to meet my parents, but I wouldn’t kick her out of bed for eating crackers, you know? Like, have you seen those _hands? Woof.”_

“Ask Fiona, she’ll tell you,” Chloe added with glee.

“Stop it,” Fiona snapped.

Ashe laughed. “Jealous?”

“No!”

With a wide grin, Ashe settled back against her pillow. “Oh, good. Maybe Pearl can go for it after all, then. I hear she’s not too picky with her flings.”

“Since _you_ don’t mind,” agreed Pearl. “Sister code, you know. Wouldn’t want to step on your toes, but since you _definitely_ aren’t sleeping with her and totally for realsies don’t want to…which, _that’s_ denial, honey. I’m not even _interested_ in girls and I’d let her raw me.”

Something twisted unpleasantly in Fiona’s gut. “I just—I just don’t think you should talk about her like that when she’s not here.”

Pearl waved her off. “I’m just teasing you. Anyway, I don’t help people cheat unless they’re really worth it. Everyone knows Robyn’s already _hopelessly_ in love.”

The twist increased. Knowing she would regret it, Fiona asked, “What?”

“Yeah,” Pearl drawled. “I’m not sure I want to compete with the entire city of Mantle.”

Ashe and Chloe burst into laughter while Fiona tried to force a smile at the joke. It wasn’t—Pearl wasn’t wrong, and honestly it wasn’t that different from the kind of joke Joanna might have made, it was just...the tone was off. The joke was sideways. They were laughing at the idea of anyone actually _caring_ about _Mantle_ of all places, that was...it was different…

“Be fair,” Ashe called up to her. “According to Fiona, it’s not the _entire_ city of Mantle.”

That set them off again, with Pearl coming up for air just long enough to manage, “I’ve been a very bad girl, I delayed filing my taxes and didn’t vote in my local elections!”

Having just finished putting her things down, Fiona bit her tongue and started picking them back up again. This time, she shoved them into her pocket dimension as fast as she could without hurting herself. She wasn’t going to listen to this. She didn’t have to, and they couldn’t make her.

Barely able to breathe from laughing, Chloe choked out, _“Ruin me like Mantle’s economy.”_

With her team dissolving into muffled shrieks, Fiona slammed the door behind her.

* * *

Fiona was halfway to her feet, ready to file out with the rest of the class, when Professor Brandy called out to her. “Miss Thyme, could I talk to you for a minute?”

Looking up in surprise, Fiona tried to quiet the instinctive rumble of anxiety in her gut. “Oh, of course.”

Brandy smiled and waved Fiona forward to her desk. That was good; she probably wasn’t in trouble, then, at least. 

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

Brandy opened her mouth, then paused and glanced toward the classroom door. _“Alone,_ if you please,” she said firmly.

Robyn, hovering in the doorway, raised an eyebrow and turned to Fiona for confirmation.

“I don’t mind her being here,” Fiona hedged. She didn’t expect that to change Brandy’s mind, and it didn’t.

“I assure you, Miss Hill, that there is nothing you need to worry about. I am not going to eat her. She’ll be with you shortly, I’m sure.”

Since pushing on this was obviously going to get ridiculous, Fiona raised a hand and waved awkwardly to Robyn. “Just give me a minute?”

Obviously still reluctant, Robyn closed the door behind her.

Professor Brandy’s lips twitched. “As it happens, Miss Thyme, that’s very nearly what I hoped to speak with you about.”

Fiona frowned. “Robyn?”

“Not Miss Hill specifically,” Brandy assured her. “I have nothing against her, constant derailments of my curriculum notwithstanding, and she clearly doesn’t make you uncomfortable.” She sighed. “But Fiona...you’re one of the top students in your year.”

Fiona blinked. “I’m _what?”_

Brandy looked vaguely surprised that she was surprised. “Of course you are. Your solo performance is always exemplary, and yet Team APCT is always solidly in the middle of the pack. So it’s...concerning, how often you seem to go out of your way to avoid your teammates.”

“I’m not…” Actually, Fiona decided, she couldn’t pull off a lie that blatant. She backtracked to, “We just don’t have much in common.”

“I know you don’t.” Brandy’s expression was kind. “And I know that must be difficult. Why do you suppose you were placed on Team APCT, as opposed to...for example...put under Miss Hill’s leadership?”

 _Because the algorithm was drunk that night,_ Fiona thought honestly. Or, if she felt less forgiving, because Ironwood was worried about putting a faunus in charge of three humans and needed a sacrificial—something.

“I think the Headmaster expected something different to happen,” she finally said out loud. “I’m sure he thought we would learn a lot from each other.”

“I very much think he _did_ believe you could learn a lot from one another,” agreed Brandy. “But if your teammates never see you outside of class, how are they meant to learn anything from what you might bring to the table? And for that matter—even if you don’t like them much right now, we can learn valuable things even from people we don’t like. And you might find as you get to know them that you have more in common than you thought.”

Fiona stared at the powder-coated steel of the desk and thought about every single time she’d ever tried to enforce her boundaries.

“You’re saying I should be ruder sometimes?”

She’d done her best to give Brandy the benefit of the doubt. She _liked_ the History professor, as much as she ever liked Atlesian academics. So Fiona couldn’t keep her ears from drooping slightly at Brandy’s obvious surprise.

“I’m not certain where you got that, I apologize. No, Fiona, I’m suggesting you give them the time of day. There’s a lot more to making a team than simply cooperating while you’re ‘working,’ so to speak. If you made an effort to connect with them as people, you might find that effort very much worth it.”

“Have—did you have this conversation with Ashe?”

The response to that was a sympathetic expression. “I realize that Ashe is your team leader, and that teambuilding is technically within her duties and not yours. But I only see one member of APCT intentionally isolating herself. I can’t ask Miss Angara to work with nothing.” 

Fiona waited, still staring at Brandy’s desk, until she was certain she could talk without her voice shaking.

“Can I go?”

Brandy sighed. She didn’t hide her disappointment, but after a moment she managed a kind smile. “Of course you can. You’ve done nothing wrong, Fiona. I’m only asking that you think about it.”

“You’re right, Professor.” There was just a hint of snappishness in Fiona’s tone as she looked up. “I _have_ done nothing wrong.”

“Fiona…”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Fiona stood. “I’m sorry. I really will think about it.” At length, hidden away in the library, with her _friends_ and very possibly a bottle of whatever the hell Mantle moonshine was that Joanna kept insisting she could smuggle in.

She closed the classroom door a little harder behind her than was strictly necessary, and got an unpleasant jolt when she looked up.

That Robyn was waiting for her, she’d expected; Joanna was rarely anywhere without Robyn, and the fact that Elm and Clover were hovering down the hallway just in case was actually really sweet. It was the others that made Fiona’s stomach curdle.

“Fiona!” Ashe exclaimed. “Is everything okay?”

“Ashe said we should wait in case something was wrong,” Chloe explained. “What did she want, are you in trouble?”

Fiona stared at them for a little too long.

“No,” she said finally. “No, she just...I put my name on a paper but forgot to sign it. Thanks for waiting.”

“Oh!” Ashe did a good job of sounding more relieved than disappointed. “Well, I’m glad that’s all it was.”

* * *

It was amazing how much more tolerable her teammates were now that Fiona had given up on them.

Professor Brandy could be disappointed in her all she wanted; APCT was functional when they needed to be. Fiona continued to ask, every few weeks, for a change in their combat lineup. She covered Chloe like it was the only thing in the world that mattered; no one would ever be able to accuse her of slacking at her one job. She’d even put together a mockup of a rifle mod to the Poking Stick and run it by Ashe, who’d hummed over it and pointed out that Fiona wouldn’t be able to focus on spotting her partner if she was also lining up shots. 

They were all passing their classes, Fiona took orders from her team leader and contributed during actual Huntress duties.

And the rest of her life was her own. 

If she’d thought the jokes were bad before, the entire Academy now seemed to think her relationship with Robyn was...something else. Even when Robyn blatantly flirted with Myrtle Ancaster in front of her, which you’d think would silence or at least confuse those rumors. It almost made them worse, which made Fiona’s blood boil. Robyn was better than that, she wouldn’t...use someone, the way they seemed to think she was doing to Fiona.

Fiona’s theory that nobody in Atlas had any actual friends was starting to be less and less of a joke, honestly.

The trade-off for living with that perception was that the snide comments from Ashe had almost dried up. Now that she no longer had to deal with Fiona being poor at her, she’d basically stopped caring. That was perfect. Ashe barely acknowledged her anymore, Chloe had on several occasions actually forgotten she still lived with them—which, as was typical of Chloe, she’d found _utterly hilarious_ —and Pearl was Pearl.

Things were _fine,_ Fiona thought, sitting at the communal desk and oiling her staff. This was actually...doable. They could get through two and a half more years like this, and then no one would care if APCT split up. Most teams didn’t stay together past graduation.

Pearl and Fiona were the only two of the team who seemed to really want to be Huntresses; Pearl was good enough in assessments to be all but guaranteed that coveted Special Operative commission right out the door. Fiona, who’d always planned on doing the same thing, was increasingly considering taking her licensure and going solo the way Robyn openly intended. Ashe _would_ take the Atlas commission, and Chloe had confessed on one of the nights she forgot Fiona was listening that she was angling for a desk job and being a Huntress first was just one of the most reliable ways to get ahead in the Atlas military.

Gods knew none of _them_ would miss her, and the feeling was mutual.

“Be right back,” she said reflexively, because she might have given up on her team but she wasn’t rude. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Mmm,” said Ashe, and Fiona left.

For now, things were actually kind of...peaceful. Pearl and Chloe had flown out last night, vacationing together in Vale for the two-week break the Academies got over the harvest festival. Ashe was leaving early in the morning to go on a cruise with her family. They weren’t talking, but they weren’t _not_ talking either. It made Fiona wonder what it might have been like having Ashe as her team leader, if she’d had just _one_ more teammate that wasn’t made of money. To balance it out.

Regardless, she’d have privacy soon. Fiona was staying in the dorms over the holidays. Her mom was between apartments, and the only family able to take her in...weren’t exactly big fans of Fiona. Ostensibly, that couldn’t be further from the truth and they loved her and were so sorry that there wasn’t much room and wouldn’t she be more comfortable up in Atlas?

Ostensibly. In the real world, Fiona knew how they felt about her ears and wasn’t about to put her mom in that position.

All the technology in the world, and Atlas Academy still couldn’t keep little puddles from the showers from forming in the most inconvenient possible places. Fiona hopped over one, skidded slightly on the wet floor, and let herself into a stall.

The Academy was generally a stickler about cleaning graffiti from its bathrooms, so the small, neat, cursive writing on the stall wall caught her eye the moment she sat down.

It took a long, awful heartbeat for her to process what she was reading.

 _Robyn had a little lamb;_ _  
__Its fleece was white as snow._

 _And everywhere that Robyn went,_ _  
__The lamb was sure to go._

Her chest tightened as she skimmed down the increasingly crude lyrics. A simple name substitution would have been bad enough, but someone had clearly had fun laying out all the places the lamb followed her to and what they did there, and oh, there it was, a reference to the smell of _wet wool,_ wink wink, nudge nudge…

You know what? Fiona didn’t need to pee this badly.

 _When will the lamb learn she's outclassed?  
_ _The eager children cry._

_When Robyn fucks her in the—_

The stall door banged on its hinges like a gunshot, and Fiona was halfway back to her dorm, cheeks flaming, before she realized she’d stormed straight through that stupid floor puddle and was now wearing wet socks.

Because that was exactly what her fucking day needed.

Ashe startled at the ferocity of her entrance. “Whoa, something wrong?”

Fiona ran hard fingers through her hair, seething, before taking several deep breaths to calm down.

“Have you been in the third stall from the end yet today?”

To her shock, Ashe relaxed and fought back a smile. “Oh, is that all? I saw that this morning, I was wondering if anyone told you yet.”

Fiona stared at her, static in her ears. “You—what?”

“I wish I knew who wrote it.” Ashe actually _laughed._ “Take a joke, Fiona. It’s not like it isn’t true.”

“It’s _not!”_ Fiona cried. “We’re not—she’s my friend, we’ve never…”

“I mean, obviously,” said Ashe. “She’s way out of your league. But come on. You have to see yourself. It’s like she’s got you on a leash. You wouldn’t say no if she _offered._ It’s funny.” 

“You…” Deep in Fiona’s chest something twisted, snapped, and fell free. “You absolute fucking _housepet.”_

Ashe’s tail twitched. Blue eyes flashed, once, and then went cold.

It wasn’t...a word you used lightly. It wasn’t a word humans used in this context at all, and for other faunus, ‘housepet’ wasn’t a line you could uncross. ‘Traitor’ was milder.

But after a long moment of frozen fury, Ashe actually smiled.

“You know,” she said, light and mild, sitting back against her pillow. “I might take that self-righteous bullshit seriously if you actually believed any of it. You’re all about faunus solidarity and fighting the power right up until a pretty human gives you the time of day.”

Fiona’s nails bit into her palms. “Shut up.”

“Hey,” Ashe protested, voice still sweet. “I’m not the one who gets off on being called a _piece of meat.”_

That made Fiona go very, very still. “Excuse me?”

“The rest of us have ears too, _lambchop.”_

_“YOU DON’T GET TO CALL ME THAT!”_

Fiona surged forward against her will, slamming to a stop halfway across the room when her brain caught up to her body. Ashe actually looked taken aback, stunned at her anger; Fiona didn’t care what she thought anymore.

“You don’t _get_ to call me that!” she shouted. “You haven’t earned—you don’t deserve—you can’t use her against me, Robyn’s more my team leader than you’ve _ever_ been! Forget Atlas, forget Mantle, forget faunus solidarity, that should be easy for you, all you ever cared about is getting yourself ahead—you’re the team leader and there are _four people on this fucking team!”_

For the first time that Fiona had ever seen, Ashe’s mask came off. She jumped lightning-quick to her feet, an enraged snarl on her face, and all but backed Fiona into the wall. “You want to do this? _Fine._ You’re an albatross around my neck that I _never_ asked for. You think this is easy? You want to talk about _solidarity?_ You’ve been undermining _everything_ I’ve fought for since Ironwood called your name just by _being_ here. I’ve fought too fucking hard to be taken seriously and distance myself from negative stereotypes to sit back and let you act like we have anything in common.”

Fiona’s heart pounded in her ears. “You—way to pull the ladder up behind you, you were supposed to _protect_ me—” 

“Says the one who won’t even get _on_ the damn ladder! I don’t know what you think you’re doing in Atlas if you won’t accept how things work here. Maybe if you’d gotten the _entire_ fuck over yourself for five minutes and been thankful you got out of that festering _cesspool_ of a city, I could have actually learned to tolerate you. But no, you and Hill both cling to being a scruffy nobody from the shittiest city in the world like it's something to be _proud of!”_

“Better than thinking being born in Atlas makes you better than everyone else! You never gave me a _chance_ —”

“To do what, give you a personality transplant?” Ashe sneered. “If you never shut up about how proud you are of being a _barnyard animal,_ don’t expect people to line up to let you in their house! It’s not my fault no one likes you. You did that to yourself.”

Furious tears stung at Fiona’s eyes. She wanted so badly to hit her, just for the slur, just _once_ —

“I don’t have to listen to this,” she choked through bared teeth, and tore away from Ashe before she did something they could actually expel her for.

Ashe gave a vicious snort. “Oh, trying something new?” she snapped. “Go on then, no one ever wanted you here in the first place. Run to your pretty shepherd and tell her I was _mean_ to you.” As Fiona yanked the door open, Ashe added, “Maybe this time she’ll finally toss you a pity fuck! _You could use it!”_

BANG.

Fiona wanted to _scream,_ but the last thing she needed was to attract the attention of everyone on the hall if she hadn’t already. So she ran down to RGEE’s door, trying to get Ashe’s vicious mockery out of her ears, and took half a second to compose herself before she knocked.

It was Elm who answered, towering over her, and her eyes went wide as she looked down and saw the look on Fiona’s face. “Hey, Fiona, uh...Robyn’s not here right now. Are—are you okay?”

Fiona was...not. Okay. She hadn’t noticed, until now; but almost a full school year of petty cruelties was crashing over her at once, and she could barely keep hot, thick sobs from overwhelming her as she nodded.

She’d been stupid to knock. If nothing else Ashe was just down the hall, she had to be listening, and Fiona would not give her the satisfaction of…

“Good timing, lambchop,” Robyn called cheerfully from the end of the hall, Clover following at her side. “I was just coming to grab my—”

One look at Fiona’s face was all it took for her mood to shift completely. 

“What happened?” Her and Clover hurried over. “Fiona? Elm?”

Elm half-raised her hands in confused concern, wincing in sympathetic pain. “I don’t know, she just…”

“I’m fine,” Fiona whimpered. “Keep your voice down, I don’t…”

Robyn’s eyes hardened. She glanced down the hallway, violet eyes burning into Fiona’s door, then turned back to her. Without another word, she pushed the door open and guided Fiona inside.

“Elm,” she said, this time pitching her voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “Clover. Give us the room for a few hours. If you see Joanna, tell her to text me.”

“Of course,” Clover agreed. “Text me if you need anything.”

“Yeah,” said Elm, casting another concerned look Fiona’s way. They cleared out willingly enough, and the door lock buzzed behind them.

Fiona, shaking and fighting a losing battle against her own tears, let herself be maneuvered over to Robyn’s bunk to sit down. Carefully, Robyn sat down next to her and pulled Fiona against her side.

“What did she say to you?”

Fiona shook her head. There was never any way to say it afterward that didn’t sound stupid; what was she supposed to say? ‘Ashe said nobody likes me’? They weren’t ten years old anymore.

Unfortunately her body had other ideas. One sob escaped, wrenching free between her ribs, and then it was out of Fiona’s hands. She _dissolved,_ choking and crying into Robyn’s shoulder. Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close; she clutched reflexively at Robyn’s jacket, hands forming fists in the battered leather, and finally let herself break down.

It went on for a long, long time. Robyn didn’t say anything; just let her cry herself out until she could talk. She knew Robyn wouldn’t care if she didn’t explain it at all, but—but she needed to talk to someone, and Robyn was always there for her.

“I...I don’t know if you’ve been in the bathroom on our hall today, but—someone wrote something about us in there that’s...pretty bad.”

Robyn frowned and pulled out her scroll to text someone—probably telling one of her team to go check it out. “Go on. Is that all?”

Fiona swallowed. “No. No, I went back to my room and told Ashe, and…she _laughed_ about it.”

Robyn stiffened, then slowly, deliberately relaxed again. “I’m sorry.”

“It was stupid,” Fiona muttered thickly, nuzzling into Robyn’s chest and forcing two semesters’ worth of mockery out of her head to do it. “It’s _Ashe,_ I don’t know why I’d ever tell her something that upsets me.”

Robyn’s hand stroked slowly, gently between her shoulder blades, drawing the tension out, bringing shuddery sobs to the surface as Fiona clung to her.

“She’s your team leader,” Robyn murmured. “You went to her like you’re supposed to. This is her fault, lambchop, not yours.”

Robyn’s words were soft and soothing and just what she needed to hear, but Fiona still _cringed_ at the nickname, still fought to keep Ashe’s sneer out of her mind’s eye.

“...Fiona? Did I say something wrong?”

Robyn was so worried, so _concerned,_ and Fiona felt stupid that it was over something so small. “No, I’m sorry, it’s just...Ashe made fun of me for letting you call me that. It’s _stupid,_ she doesn’t understand what it means, what _you_ mean, it’s just...”

Robyn’s fingers tightened in Fiona’s hair, where she’d been brushing it back.

“It’s not stupid. Hey,” Robyn told her, pulling her close again. “Fiona. It’s not stupid. C’mere.”

Fiona tucked her head under Robyn’s chin, listening to her heartbeat, until her breathing started to steady again.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Whenever you need me,” was Robyn’s immediate response. “That’s what having a team means, right?”

“I’m not your team, though.”

Robyn’s lips twitched. “Are too,” she retorted, scrunching her nose. “So there.”

It would normally have been enough to at least make Fiona smile. “I’m not, though,” she protested weakly. “I’m not your responsibility, you’re allowed to say so if you’re not up to…”

Robyn’s expression turned serious again. _“Ashe Angara_ is on your team, but I’m not? Bullshit. Come on, Fiona. You’re one of mine now.”

That, finally, drew a tired smile out. Fiona shifted slightly, so that she was sitting next to Robyn instead of collapsed against her, and sniffled.

“On the bright side?” she offered. “I mean. I know why she hates me now, I guess.”

Robyn winced in sympathy. “That bad, huh?”

Fiona shrugged. “It’s just good to know I never really had a chance with her. It’s…” She trailed off, trying to think of how to put it into words, and after a moment decided she wasn’t up to the task. “It’s, you know...complicated. She’s this rich upper-class Atlas girl who spent her whole life trying to be one of _them,_ and...”

Robyn let her trail off, waited for a few seconds, then nodded with a heavy sigh. “Yeah.”

“It’s okay,” Fiona said. “It’s just...not really something I can explain to you.”

“I know.” A rare expression of hesitation showed on Robyn’s face for a moment, as she seemed to grapple internally with something. Then Robyn turned away slightly, crossed her arms, and rested her elbows on her knees. “No matter how hard people like Ashe try to assimilate, humans will never let us forget what we are.”

Fiona went still. Robyn, shoulders tense, continued looking vaguely around the room.

 _“...Us?”_ Fiona whispered. “Robyn…?”

More than anyone that Fiona had ever known, Robyn was so very careful with her words. She thought through _everything_ she said, there was no _way_ she’d let that word choice just slip out.

For a long time, Robyn was silent. When she spoke again, her voice was very soft.

“It was a miner’s strike,” she said quietly, vulnerable in a way that Fiona had never seen. “One of the ones that turned bad. I wasn’t a miner, I was just...there. There were agitators, planted in the crowd, the miners tried to catch them all but one of them managed to throw a bottle…”

Fiona squeezed her fingers. “Robyn?” 

“The SDC goons opened fire.” Robyn’s eyes were a million miles away. “We’d all scattered, and I guess a white tail shows up in the dark.”

Fiona’s breath hitched.

“You’re…” She swallowed, and started again. “A tail?”

With a faint smile, Robyn took her hand and slipped Fiona’s fingertips down her back, just under her waistband, where the beginnings of a furred tail were just able to be felt. One that felt like it was supposed to be much, much longer.

“I was…” Robyn’s voice faltered a little. “Gods. Fifteen?”

“Oh,” Fiona breathed. “Oh, _Robyn_. Have...you told anyone else? Joanna, or…?”

“No,” Robyn whispered. Maybe it was just the light, or maybe there really was a hint of tears glistening in her eyes.

Fiona’s grip tightened on her sleeve. She suddenly felt very, very stupid again, for very different reasons. And not because Robyn was a faunus— _Robyn was a faunus, she’d been a faunus this whole time!_ —either.

All this time, all the days when Robyn was the only thing that could make her smile, the way she was the first person Fiona turned to in a crisis, the way something tiny and scared in her chest _melted_ whenever Robyn threw an arm around her shoulders, lounging around a table in the library.

How had she never _realized_ what this girl meant to her?

 _How_ had everyone seen it but her, she thought, warmth and softness warring with despair, how had she never known, and could she go back to that? It had been so much simpler…

Unable to stand it anymore, she lunged forward and flung her arms around Robyn’s neck.

Robyn laughed softly, guiding Fiona into her lap.

“Easy, lambchop,” she murmured, and this time Fiona smiled into the nickname. “I’m okay. We’ll be okay. I’ve got you.”

Fiona smiled, and decided it didn’t matter right now what she and Robyn were to each other, that she wouldn’t make her feelings Robyn’s problem. She was just happy to have this, no strings attached, just someone who simply _cared._ “I’ve got you too.”

They held each other for a long, blissful moment, and Fiona could have stayed like that all day. But inevitably, the soft buzz of Robyn’s scroll interrupted it. She shifted slightly to dig it out of her pocket, and looked at the image attachment that Joanna had sent.

“Oh,” she said after a moment. Her voice was clear and hard, all hint of vulnerability vanished and replaced with righteous fury. “Oh, _hell_ no. You know what Fiona, on _very_ rare occasions Clover’s got a point about the value of working in the system. We’re _reporting this_.”

The idea of making a fuss about this instead of just washing it off and never speaking of it again went against all of Fiona’s instincts, but...well. When Robyn got that determined spark in her eyes, it was hard not to feel like they could take on all of Atlas and win.

**Author's Note:**

> Lest we be accused of making Fiona's teammates excessively awful, be aware that "You need to learn how to compromise, because we're not changing any of our behaviors" is an actual thing that was said to Jo, verbatim, unironically, by an actual third-year college roommate in real life.
> 
> (No authors were harmed in the making of this fic but one of them experienced much-needed catharsis.)
> 
> Apologies to May Marigold as she is an egg in this time and thus every single pronoun we write feels like nails on a chalkboard. But you will NEVER hear her deadname so long as I live.


End file.
